Fast run
by Peachless
Summary: Alex is on the run. Fast and downhills, he takes a couple old familiars with him. Now how did he get into this mess again?
1. Chapter 1

Prologue

The Sunday begun with the death of a pokerplayer.

At 00.02 a woman called the police station, reporting what she thought had been the sound of a gunshot. "Just a minute ago," she told the answering receptionist.

Making the time of death 00.01 on Sunday, and the case shifted from the Saturday night team to the Sunday team, led by Regus Flinck, who you may say, didn't like the fact that this 'pokerfanatic' decided to get killed during his shift.

So here he was, at the crime scene, sipping his pitch-black coffee, trying to see something in the darkened room. Regus coffee was strong, as strong as it gets, and maybe the one and only reason coffee made it to the list of soft-drugs at all.

Still he wasn't quit awake. He was, let say, a bit groggy, and slightly gump, not to mention he's somewhat too old for his work. But that was only to be anticipated, who else would happily take the midnight-Sunday-shift anyway?

The sound of a radio that cracked into live broke the silence in the room. "Flinck, what have you got for me?" the voice of Regus Flick boss deadpannened.

"Come in operator, I've got one body, time of death 00.01, shot in the head. Perfect bull's-eye. Lights broken, and the window in the kitchen slammed. Victim's sitting in the living room, cards spread out,and the television is missing. Looks like a regular burglary to me."

"Christ, and it's only one in the morning. Right, leave it to the morning team, I will sent a forensic team and we'll determine the victims identity later."

"Thank you sir, I will come back to the office right away," Regus answered, but didn't get a reply. Not that he was expecting any; it was only one in the morning.

Slowly he walked out of the small flatroom, his teammate waited in the car one floor beneath him, the lady which had called came out of her door, asking him if everything was alright.

Regus put on his best smile, "everything is fine madam, perfectly fine."

Now maybe Regus Flinck had been a bit too tired. His coffee hadn't kicked in yet, he had only been awake for a hour and half, or maybe he was getting tired of being too old for his job. But whatever it was, that night one important question hadn't crossed his mind.

Which pokerplayer played a game alone?

* * *

Alex was running.

The road he had taken was long and spread out in front of him, seeming never to end. But that was okay; Alex needed to get away as far as possible, so no end, seemed like a good option to him.

Out the corner of his eye he spotted some dark figures, sitting at the side of the road. Why was it that all the suspicious looking persons came out at night, gathering around at street corners. Were they there too in broad daylight, and you just didn't spot them?

Anyways, it didn't matter right now; any dark figure was better then what Alex was running from. Gods, he would take any drug dealer over the people he had come across only moments ago.

He had been on a mission, a small one they had told him. Nothing hard, just a cover for another agent.

And easy it had been, he had gotten a free sleep residence, free food, he had had the time of his life lazing around, pretending to be the kid of a middle-aged mathteacher, just moved into town, that actually was agent Rodens.

Rodens had not been pleased with Alex stay, but hey, it's not like Alex had had a choice in the matter. Any objections he had to take up to Blunt, Alex had wished him the best of luck.

Now the agent was dead. Shot bull's-eye during a 'friendly' game of poker with one of his contacts. "Friendly my **", Alex had decided when hearing the shot.

He had waited in the kitchen, out of view like ordered. That may be the only reason he wasn't dead yet, realizing his partner was 'in a better place' now, Alex had made a dive trough the kitchen window. It had only been one floor up.

But it had been worth it, he rather had a sprained ankle then a nice chat with the people he had taken a glance at while making a jump for it.

Black tunics, black guns, one silver symbol on their chest. Scorpia.

So Alex was running. As fast as possible. Wishing the road would never stop until the other side of the world. Or maybe, when his head was clear again, he would take a left to a certain Bank.

* * *

_Well is it something? Let me know, its my first fiction. _  
_Peachless  
Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider, this is a fan fiction based on the Alex Rider series by Anthony Horowitz_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After what seemed like a lifetime spent running, Alex realized he was barefooted.

This small realization brought him back to earth, making him concentrate on other details than the pounding of his heart. For instance, where was he exactly?

The answer came as a sour taste in the mouth, unintentionally he had led himself to the doorsteps of the General bank, headquarters to MI6. Why of all places did he have the unconscious need to go back there, it's not like the place was a epitome of safety.

Mentally cursing the rotten judgment of his unconsciousness, he walked past the spot he had taken a bullet. How ironic, Alex could see the joke was on him this night.

At least he didn't get followed anymore, he concluded after a swift look. He cautiously nudged the doors in front of him, only to get bounced back. Locked.

MI6 was locked, closed… on further expectation, the building looked closed down from the outside, how had he missed that? The lights were off, normally there were guards standing at the sides of the entrance, but now they were as absence as the fake costumers that decorated the entrance hall at midday's.

"S**t," Alex brilliantly commented. He wasn't sure why he never thought of the place being closed, perhaps because imagining Alan Blunt going home after an eight-hour shift was impossible.

Didn't the guy live at work? Wasn't MI6 supposed to operate at day and night? Seeing as terrorism was a 24/7 activity.

Franticly Alex started to slam against the doors, going more wirily by the minute. What if he didn't shake his pursuers off? What if they had waited until he went here?

To shoot him again, for good old times' sake?

Hanging his head down against the cold glass of the windows he swore again, this was not happening. The one time he came here out of his own free will, they were out.

Deep buried in his own thoughts, drowning in self-pity, he didn't notice a black car driving up the street, slowing down behind him.

The sound of automatic windows lowering made Alex look back in fright, snapping out of his tired daze -they had found him! - Only to make room for clear surprise.

"Hop in," the unexpected familiar face spoke.

Not needing to be told twice, Alex hurried to the passenger side, he didn't even care his sprint may have looked a bit undignified. "Thanks"  
"Just doing my job," the man gruffly responded.

The car pulled up with a low roar, mimicking his driver's characteristic growling troth sound, which Alex had gotten used to at training, a bit too realistic.

Now Alex was perceptively safe from any Scorpia followers, questions about the sudden appearance of his unorthodox saving-angel raised in Alex. Determining how to ask the man, without sounding ungrateful, Alex shifted somewhat in his seat.

When finally deciding on bluntly asking, Wolf beat him to it. The man had some questions himself, which he had been putting off to drive to safer ground, but now they were heading to quieter streets, he quirked his eyebrows in question to the blond teen.

"Why are you not wearing any shoes?"

"Excuse me?" It now occurred to Alex that this night couldn't become any more surrealistic.

"You're not even wearing socks, and are those pajama's?" Wolf really looked disturbed by that thought.

Truthfully, Alex was wearing only his PJ's, and being scolded for it seemed as embarrassing as unfair.

"You suggest I should have changed into something more appropriate for the occasion? Alex retorted chagrin.

"And that occasion was?" Wolf simply asked.

"You mean you don't know?" Alex fidgeted some more on his seat, finally finding a good turn for his feet and visibly started to relax some more.

"Where are we going?"

"MI6 night-quarters," Wolf stopped for some red traffic lights. "I have been told to pick you up, 'cause you seemed to be in some sort of trouble. And take you to headquarters immediately, in one piece."

"So you don't know anything?" Alex contemplated on how much he should tell Wolf, or if he should tell him anything at all until they reached MI6.

Wolf was quiet for a moment, letting the car pull up to the green lights, and when Alex thought the topic was closed, he started talking again. "I know you were being chased, MI6 got surveillance report on a dead agent, they sent me to the General bank, Fox to your old home, Snake's at your school… looks like I won the price."

Alex nodded, that made sense, but Wolf wasn't done yet. "Why did you think I picked you up? Of course I know something... You think I always drive off with minors, fresh from the streets, just for the fun of it? Wouldn't look that good in my file, would it now?" Wolf grinned a little.

"Well, on that thought, you might want to remove your picture in your file too," Alex cheekily told, suddenly too tired to be cautious. Though he had been kind of afraid of Wolf at trainings, he was over that now. Running into sadistic psychopaths as Julia Rothman and Mr Drevin, did that to you.

Still he was surprised Wolf only let out a doglike laugh, and Alex decided once more, that this night couldn't get more weird than in already was.

Alex suppressed a yawn, wrinkling his nose somewhat, his eyes begun to feel heavier by the minute. "Thought they were closed," he drowsily said.

"What? MI6?" Wolf shook his head. "How did you figure that one out? You think enemies of the British Nation like to sleep of their grudges? Terrorism is a 24/7 business, how stupid are you?"

Fair enough, Alex thought, let him make fun, he care so much. What he did care about was the comfort feeling of the soft-leather seats, the warm breeze from the car-heating, almost like a real bed…

They didn't talk anymore, Alex vaguely heard Wolf make radio contact with the others, telling them Alex was found. He didn't try to eavesdrop anymore; suddenly this night didn't seem that horrifying.

Sitting in the large passenger seat, Alex realized that the adrenaline hype he had been on was now slowly subdued. Leaving him a bit tired, wondering how bad it would be if he just took a small nap…?

* * *

Alex woke by a nasty blow on his head. Wolf's way of waking him.

"Cub? You're up?" The man sounded hasty.

"Yeah, where are we?" Alex didn't recognized the sandy road they were on, probably somewhere outside London, he couldn't see further than a couple feet, the night being so dark.

"Doesn't matter, we're being followed," Wolf gave a glance at his side mirrors.

Alex leaned up immediately, turning in his seat trying to see anything through the back window. Sure enough, the vague outlining of another car was behind them.

"You think there after us?" Alex hated how his voice went up about a whole octave.

Wolf didn't dignify his question with an answer, but stepped up his gas more.

Alex didn't know what he find more disturbing, the fact he heard the car behind them speeding up too, or the concentrating face Wolf made, his eyes sharp and focused, totally in control while speeding up even more.

"Who's after us Cub?" Wolf demanded to know, now fully focusing on the small road in front of them; Alex saw small white poles coming by faster and faster.

"I-I don't think… It's classified" Alex squeaked. He began to get more scarred by the minute, if that were Scorpia agents, then who knows what they would try to do to them.

"Classified-" Wolf grunted while turning a sharp right when a crossroad appeared out of the blue, "-my **."

"It's Scorpia," Alex fastly told, the hell with MI6, he rather would not get his only ally on his bad side. "Tonight, I saw them ki-"

"DUCK!" Wolf roared.

The riffle of a gun pierced trough the darkness, accompanied by the shrieking sound of the wheels losing their grip on the road, the danger suddenly became all too real to Alex.

In what couldn't be more that a second Wolf had thrown himself sideways, never leaving his foot of the gear, one hand on the steer, other one firmly in Alex hair, yanking him down.

The car shook with the impact of the blows, glass spread like rain over their heads. Alex felt the right side of the car lowering, a flat tire. It was a miracle Wolf had managed to hold the car on the road, at same speed.

Pathetically, Alex could only think about one thing; I'm going to die.

Luckily, Wolf seemed to have other plans.

He was now racing on a ravished side road, zigzagging his way so they weren't such an easy target. The gunshots died down for a moment, and Alex dared to look up.

He wished he hadn't, in front of them Alex saw a clear sign, Bridge ahead. Well ** his luck.

"Wolf," Alex didn't know what he was going to say, maybe it was some sort of warning, but got cut off by Wolf.

"When I say go-" he yelled at him, between two breaths, "I need you to open your door!"

"What?!" Alex yelled back. His door?

Wolf dared to look at one of his mirrors, only to swear colourfully when it exploded in a dozen pieces. The loud shooting started again, and Alex felt by the impact it had on the car that they were closer by now.

How close became clear when they felt the car getting hit from behind. They were pushing them of the road!

"When I say Go!" Wolf called over the crashing, knuckles white where he tried to hold a grip on the steer.

Alex looked up to the man next to him, catching his eyes, he must looked as frightened as he felt because the older one gave his a small wink, despite the impact on his right where more glass got smashed.

Alex nodded, okay, he could do this, as long as Wolf got a plan, he could do this.

The sand road wove into harder ground, making the car slip into the right lane. They had entered the bridge.

"Cub!" Wolf panted…."Go!"

Alex lunged for the door, pushing it open, when he looked at Wolf one moment, the next, he got another scare of his live.

Wolf threw the steer to the left, making them heading straights to the rails of the bridge, then half a second later, he jumped at Alex side of the car, releasing the steer.

Alex had no time to think, all he could do was yelp when the man pushed him out of the open door. He would hit the stone road with a good 100 mile per hour.

But the impact didn't come, Wolf and he were flying through the air, their car slamming trough the rails and gravity sucked them downwards.

Alex couldn't see how far the fall would be, it was too dark and he went to fast, he felt the wind brushing by his face, faintly aware of the car falling next to him.

Than another kind of darkness hit him like a stone wall. The water.

Alex didn't know which way was up, and got slammed even deeper under by the car hitting the surface a mere moment after him.

He felt the heavy iron carcass getting sucked to the bottom, and that's how he knew which way was up. His legs tinkled all over, his ankles felt sprained, but he managed to make his way up.

Second feeling he got was the cold, how could water be so dark and so cold? Desperate for air, Alex concentrated on the pounding of his heart. It felt like any minute now his heart would burst out of his chest.

Surprisingly, the surface was quicker reached than Alex thought, making him gulp for air.

But a strong hand clasped on his mouth, making Alex scream, but the sound was muffled.

"Shhh, they will hear us," Wolf shushed in his ear, Alex felt the man breathing quickly and silent immediately.

He wanted to turn around, see if Wolf was okay, but didn't dare to move. Above them they saw lights, shining as tunnels and flickering over the water.

Wolf and Alex were under the bridge, at the edge and hopefully the lights didn't reach their spot. It probably was to dark to spot them without any lights, as the water seemed pitch-black everywhere.

Alex now understood what Wolf's plan had been, if they were lucky, their pursuers hadn't seem them jumping out of the car, and now thought that they were dead.

It was a risky plan, one that Alex hadn't gambled on himself, but 'hey, don't complain when you're still alive', had become Alex motto.

After what seemed like hours the lights went away, and they heard a car pull up above them.

Alex wanted to swim back to shore right away, but Wolf held him back for a good half hour more. Soaking wet and shivering with cold Alex finally lay down in the grass, only lifting his head to take a look at the other.

"Wolf you alright?" he asked upon seeing his white face.

When Wolf didn't answer Alex became worried. " Wolf, are you okay? You look funny… you're not hurt are you?" Alex asked while his teeth were clapping. He started to hold his knees to his body, capturing a bit more warmth, and forming a little bundle of wet clothes and ice-cold limbs.

"Wolf?"

Wolf shook his head lightly, also a bit shivering, and mouthed a few unrecognizable words. "What was that?" Alex tried again.

"My car…. I can't believe… my car…"

Utter disbelieve fled trough Alex, "I-I can't believe it… we've escaped death by an inch, and you're crying 'bout…your car?"

Wolf didn't seem to hear him, but had started to chant 'my car, my car' ever so silently.

"You, Wolf…" Alex grunted while hoisting himself off the ground, "have one hell of a midlife-crisis."

He didn't look back to see if Wolf was following him. At the rate this night was going, Alex better be on the move again, otherwise he probably would have to be make a run for it again.

And he was pretty tired of running tonight.

* * *

_I was overwhelmed by the amount of people that putted me on alert, I hope I didn't disappoint. Special thanks to Ko-pia and Anne Pheonix, both of them left a lovely review. _

_Please review and let me think what you thought of the chapter, it's my first story and I'm going crazy with curiosity. Naturally, criticism and such are also welcome._

_Peachless_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

In the next few hours, Alex found out that Wolf wasn't that keen on secrets. He had no disregard for Nation secrecy, nor for his own personal secrecy, in fact, the man seemed branded on spilling out all of his dark fact's, just to have something to talk about.

"So there I was, as naked as the day I was born, when that Chilli from the day before started to protest. Now I don't embarrass easily, but the thing was…"

Alex had stopped listening about an hour ago. He now knew that Wolf wasn't that into yoga, didn't like cheese, hated mornings, liked foreign accents, arranged his M&M by colour, and apparently 'didn't embarrass so easily'.

What he would like to know, was when the man would shut up?

"How come you're so talkative? You never seemed to be at Brecon's," he wondered out loud.

Wolf stopped his epic-babble and answered simply, "Brecon's wasn't my best time, besides I'm a night person. At nights I come alive."

Ok, no further elaboration on that one, Alex thought to himself. "Right, so…" Alex trailed.

"So, what's your name?" Wolf asked, not aware of the sudden awkwardness Alex was falling in.

"Alex Rider," he responded, it was strange to introduce himself to Wolf, a bit late in the game you could say.

"Rider, isn't that the name of-"

"What's your name?" Alex cut through; he didn't want to be reminded to his diseased family, father nor uncle.

Wolf lifted his eyebrow by the sudden interruption, but answered anyway, "Dante."

"No last name?" Alex made Wolf grin.

"Colpart," Wolf told, it sounded chic and wealthy to Alex' ears.

They walked slowly through some bushes, trying to stay in the covers of the threes and shrubs as much as possible.

There had been something in the way Wolf had refused to go and look for a way to communicate with MI6, which had made Alex extra cautious. He suspected that Wolf knew more than he let on, he felt suspicious.

"Tell me again, why is it that we are scrambling trough the middle of freakin' nowhere, while we could go and ask for backup? Maybe a nice pick-up? A real bed to crash on?" he questioned the older man.

Wolf signed, and scanned Alex over. Alex didn't know what Wolf was looking for, but he seemed to have found it because Wolf started to explain, though somewhat hesitated. "You remember back in the car, when I made radio contact with the others?" he looked Alex in the eyes.

"Yes, vaguely," Alex truthfully told, he had been sleepy.

"Well, I told them I got you, I told Fox and Snake to go back to headquarters, and I would take you there myself, riding the South route," Wolf stopped for a second, slapping a branch away, "everything seemed okay, right? You fell asleep, I drove through London, finally entering the South route to night-quarters and then-"

Alex knew what then… and slow realization started to come, "then we got followed."

"-Exactly," Wolf continued as if never interfered, "we got followed, and the curious thing about that is that only a few people know which roads the South route to night-quarters are."

Alex didn't even noticed the sharp stoned he stepped on with his feet, having no shoes on for the entire journey, his feet had gone numb. He was listening carefully to Wolf's words, it seemed like he was on to something.

"The only people that know, are those who work at night-quarters, meaning MI6 and occasionally some SAS," Wolf levelly said.

"You think MI6 betrayed our location?!" Alex called surprised, coming to the same conclusion as Wolf had earlier. He almost didn't dare to ask his next question, "what about Fox and Snake?"

"No, they wouldn't," Wolf sounded resolute, and probably had convinced himself of that fact earlier too.

"About MI6 I don't know what to think, it's possible…" Wolf grunted. "Think about it, who else knew that you were in my car, I didn't see anyone when you stepped in, did you?"

The question was rhetorical, no there had been no one else, Alex knew that, if only instinctively. They also hadn't been followed through London; he would have seen that, so whoever it was, must have begun to follow them after he had fallen asleep.

"So, what are we going to do now?" the question sounded childish even to Alex own ears.

For a moment he thought Wolf wasn't going to reply, but then the man shook his head and once more looked at Alex, "We stay out of sight, I know where the night-quarters are, we can walk our way there, avoiding the bigger roads, it will take a while, but it's manageable. When we get there I will talk to K-Unit, maybe ask Fox if he knows anything, since he's MI6, I know we can trust him.

Alex agreed, he didn't think Fox had had a say in this matter, even though he was MI6 now. Somehow he trusted the guy after Snakehead, like he trusted Smithers too; his gadgets never disappointed him, while the rest of MI6 always found a way to leave him alone with his hopeless circumstances.

Well, better not dwell on that anymore, Alex settled for that. It looks like they had a long walk ahead of them, and it sure didn't promise to be a pleasant one, with the bushes, the darkness and no shoes at all.

* * *

Simultaneously their bellies growled. Alex didn't commented, Wolf did his upmost best to not look hungry, so who was he to pierce his happy bubble?

But the fact stayed, they were hungry. First it had been only Alex stomach, going for an intro, after a half hour or so Wolf's lower grumble had joined in. Now they were hungry in silence, trying to ignore the feeling, it made the primitive sound of empty stomachs all the more noticeable.

The sun was coming up and threw a red glow over the horizon; only that idyllic site wasn't what made Alex gasp for air.

"What?" Wolf immediately focused on their surroundings, only to spot Alex's source of silent whimpering in the far distance.

A good mile away they could see the outlining of a red and yellow sign, towering above the threes.

"Oh," Wolf now understood, "well they should be open in about an hour; they start at 7 in the morning."

Alex wondered if Wolf knew the opening times of all fast-food chains, or just the ones of McDonalds.

Walking towards the place, their moods lightened, Alex could even see Wolf wearing somewhat of a smile, what food could do for a man's mood.

But hiding in the side bushes by the parking area, they strolled into another problem.

"Eh, Wolf?" Alex began.

"Yeah?"

"We have no money, how are we going to buy food …?"

"Yeah," Wolf signed, "ditch and run?"

"What?" Alex didn't get it.

"We eat, then ditch the dishes, and run." Wolf explained, like it was common tactic.

It made Alex think, "You've done this before, haven't you?"

Wolf stuck up his nose in pride, and managed to look quite indulgent, "only if I had to."

"McDonalds makes you pay first, probably so types like you can't make a run for it," Alex muttered.

"We will figure something out while we're there, now listen carefully, if anything seems to be off, tell me. There might be more Scorpia agents in the area, and I was ordered to get you to quarters in one piece. Ok?" Wolf said and Alex nodded in understanding, he was all for the 'in-one-piece' plan.

"Here we go." And Wolf was of out the bushes, crossing the parking space with confident strides.

Alex followed, but a bit less self-assured, guess the fact they were in civilization again made him more aware that he was only in his pyjama. It still was a bit damp, because the night had been too cold to really let his clothes dry, and he must look like he had jumped of a bridge, died, and sprung back to life again.

He probably smelled like that too.

Turns out he and Wolf didn't need to worry about any payments. A surprised voice called him before they were even inside.

"Alex!"

Alex whirled on his feet, towards the sound of the call; Wolf had stopped and snapped his head in same direction.

Out of the blue a man had appeared at the other side of the car row, gently smiling while he waved at him and started to head towards him.

Agent Crawley was the last man he had thought to run in to at a small road McDonalds.

Wolf also made his way back to Alex and asked him if he knew the man.

"Yes, that's Crawley, works for MI6, he's friendly but a bit of a bore." Alex hurriedly filled him in.

By then Crawley had made his way to the two of them, smiling friendly, like it was a perfectly good summer day morning.

"Alex! How happy I am to see you, as soon as we realized what happened we started a small searching," the man came to business rather quick, "and you must be Wolf, you probably are very pleased to hear we already lifted your car out of the river. A week at the shop and she must be as fresh as a daisy again. No costs naturally, MI6 treat."

Wolf didn't want to show he was happy, although it wasn't too obvious, you could see the enlighten expression on his face. Alex chuckled, looking at the serious face of his companion and too think the man must be raving with joy right now, was pretty funny if you asked him.

"But don't let us hang out here, you two must be starving. Who's in for a McBreackfast?" Crawley jovially said.

Alex grinned and turned towards the entrance, when he had walked a few feet, he heard Wolf and Crawley talk to each other in lowered voices. Probably about Wolf's suspicions, but they didn't want him to hear any.

Well, if they wanted to treat him like a child, them there was no better place than McDonalds to do so. Alex figured he didn't care, and to show, he ordered a big Child's menu.

Some burgers and fries later, Alex stated he had been wrong; Crawley wasn't dull, he was a God. The way he swept his unlimited credit-card trough the fluoric pins at the pay-line, how he somehow managed to safe them spotless sittings, and how he made sure Alex never was without a filled Cola-can.

The man was awesome, even though he wore a stiff suit and looked greyer than a granny.

Wolf enjoyed himself too, having ravished a big menu and chicken-salad and had ordered a second Diet-Coke, he looked content. Still there were important matters to attend to.

"Crawley, we must discuss about what happened this night, how did they know where we were? Is MI6…" Wolf didn't know the right way to ask, or what exactly he was asking for.

Crawley nodded, "Yes, I suppose you have questions, I will pay and then I will tell you what I can. Alex, would you be so kind to wait in the car please?"

Alex felt like a big five-year old, but saw he hadn't got a chance at staying too listen in. Grown-up business, after all he had done, he still was being treated like a child.

Annoyed he stamped his way to Crawley's car, parked out of clear sight, and waited inside for the other two. Maybe, if he was subtle, he could prod Wolf into telling him later.

Opening the car with the borrowed keys, Alex settled himself in the passenger seat in the front, positioning himself so he could see the entrance.

Sure enough, within a minute Crawley already came out. That was a fast chat; Alex mused, and pinched his eyes to spot Wolf somewhere.

Crawley reached the car and smiled through the window. Alex gave a weak smile back, as he was also scanning the area. Something didn't feel right; it was an odd feeling, like something was going to happen.

Crawley placed himself in the front seat and started to rumble through the dashboard, Alex supposed he was looking for the keys which Alex had dropped there somewhere, but he didn't really pay attention to the man. He was busy looking for the familiar mob of dark hair, but couldn't see Wolf coming.

"Something's wrong, we need to leave," he warned Crawley.

"Yes we should," Crawley answered calmly, still rummaging.

_"If anything seems to be off, tell me"_ Alex remembered Wolf saying, it made him even wonder more why he hadn't come out yet. "Where's Wolf? He promptly asked out.

"I'm afraid Wolf's not coming with us, he's a bit…caught up," Crawley told him.

"What do you mean?" Alex didn't understand, Wolf needed to come, something was about to happen. The sound of liquid being turned in a bottle made Alex look away from the entrance to Crawley, "Why is Wolf not-"

A white cloth was being shoved into Alex face, silencing him in midsentence, strong hands kept it firmly in place. Alex mind was spinning, he saw Crawley face in front of him and realized it had been a trap. Crawley attacked him!

Before he could struggle loose his arms already began to feel heavy. He inhaled the subduing gas on the white fabric and his mind lost focus. What was happening, where was Wolf? His thoughts became chaotic and daze.

Wolf had been right, MI6 had been behind the car chase, somehow Crawley had something to do with it.

Alex attempted a hit in Crawleys direction, but didn't even feel if his fist made contact or not. His eyes felt heavy and his breathing slowed.

Last thing he saw was the friendly smile on Crawleys face, like a perfect masker, making him a perfect weapon, then everything went into the seeping darkness as he fell unconscious.

* * *

_I hope this chapter was as nice as the others, I myself am not so sure about this one. Let me know in a review if you liked it or not. Any questions will be answered._  
_All those who have reviewed, thank you so much, it truly gives me the oil to write faster. Special thanks to 32-star (!!!) who had kindly corrected many spellings mistakes in chapter 1 and 2, it was a great job! ** now chapter 3 also beta'd by 32-star  
_

_Peachless_


	4. Chapter 4

_You might noticed I am a irregular updater, that is simply because I have a very irregular life at the moment. I can't plan when and how much I will write, but I found some time today to come up with this._

Chapter 4

Smithers wasn't one for the running.

No sprints, but no long distant jogs either, not even a hop on the stairs or a swift walk to catch the bus. Smithers never needed to take the bus anyway.

Running had never been required.

To think about it, the man didn't even know how to run. Theoretically, yes of course, but looking at the tips of his toes peeking out under the line of his big belly, Smithers doubted he could make those same toes cooperate with his feet and legs, in a quick manner.

First, Smithers had been amused by the upcoming cold war inside MI6. Blunt and Jones, his boss and boss-in-second, seem to stand on opposite sides of a very sharp drawn line. He had received all kinds of privileges, extra's and compliments coming from both ways.

Yes, at first he had been delighted he was used as a pawn in their silent disagreement. His budget certainly didn't complain about the extra weight it carried.

Being bribed had its pro's.

Mentally Smithers cheered for Jones side, MI6 could use a new direction, and if any, Jones was just more likable than Blunt could ever dream to be.  
On the outside Smithers didn't comment however -who was he to question Blunt's fast approval of the purchasing of some more, eh… enthusiastic… explosives?

Now, he had come back from that state of judgment. Now, he wondered if it was too late to built some stamina, to go attend the firms broad gyms sometimes, get one of those member cards. Do some cardio…?

So he could make a decent run for it.

But Smithers knew it would be too little, too late, the silent war had exploded, noticeably, this night.

The evening had been fine, a bit busy, but that wasn't out of the usual. It was Ms Jones that had stood out that evening. Or let's say, the lack of Ms Jones. For first in Smithers' memory, he had gone to the more secret located night quarters, which he hated for disturbing his night and day rhythm, and found it in the noticeable absence of the head's deputy.

Jones was always there. Night and day. Smithers used to wonder if his bosses ever slept, he certainly never catch them even yawn a bit.

Warily Smithers had started to work on one of his latest developments, when a distressed agent came to report that an activity had occurred by a agent under surveillance. Blunt hastily let the man in to report, not bothering to close the door.

Now, Smithers just loved to eavesdrop.

He heard the boy, his young favourite, had been in a car crash, somewhere this night, rolled off a bridge, together with a soldier. Both were declared death.

Smithers didn't believe a word of it, Alex had a surprising way of springing back into life, when officially declared dead. Besides Smithers had never been stupid.

The reporter didn't notice the overly calm response his boss gave, but Smithers heard the unsurprised tone very clearly, the man already knew.  
Blunt always knew, that was his specialty. But knowing an agent would die in an accident, was a bit over the top. The man was not an oracle.

So Smithers came to a very logical conclusion.

He may have been used as a pawn, a ping-pong ball in a heated game between his uppers; the real 'weapon' his bosses mainly fought about was the young spy. And now he was gone. Captured or disappeared, Smithers didn't know, but what he did know was that eventually, he would be next.

So the decision had come quite rapidly. He would follow Jones, for he was about hundred percent sure, she at least didn't want to execute him that easily. And following Blunt would be such a grey-parade.

Now, sitting at his desk at HQ, fiddling with his self designed gel-filled-chair, to redirect it in a perfect stand for a good brooding, he started at his run-away plan.

Preferably, without the actual running.

* * *

It was a bad beginning, that day at the McDonalds. It had been busy, at seven in the morning already, and now there was the matter of worlds' most angry looking client McDonalds had ever served.

Not that the man hadn't reason to complain, his arm did hung in a very awkward angle stuck to a iron railing near his seat. But that hardly was McDonalds fault, was it?

If you could hear said man's words, you would say the fast-food chain deliberately designed railings next to seats, so he could be cuffed to them.

For once in a long time, Wolf was panicking. How could he have been such a fool? Letting Alex walk of that easily, he should never had let him get out of his sight in any circumstances. Crawley had looked so trustworthy, friendly, likable even, that he somehow had forgotten it was MI6 they were dealing with.

Like the organization would actually stand up and tell then which one of the employees was on their side, and which one were after them. If Crawley needed to seem trustworthy, he would look that way, he was after all, a professional spy.

Looking back on it, they had been fooled so easily. Almost willingly being led by the lion to his den, eager to follow for such a simple thing as breakfast. Franticly Wolf recalled the hour before, see if he had a lead to where Crawley was taking Alex.

_As soon as the boy had been out of hearing distance, Wolf had started asking, "there's a leak in MI6, we were followed this night. Have any idea who-"_

_Wolf had been looking at Alex retreating to the car of the MI6 agent, when he felt the cold thin handcuffs being clipped on his wrist. Just like that._  
_"What?" Wolf stared at the iron cuffs, to see the other end hanging on the railing at the side of their sitting spot. Furious realization made his look at Crawley._

_The man smiled at him friendly as ever, and started to walk his way to the exit. As in a greeting he turned around for a moment, "As for your question, I have quite a good guess about who sold you out, haven't you?"_

He had called out Alex name, he had yanked his bindings hard enough to do some damage on his hand and wrist, he had panicked because he knew it was no use. And finally he had asked for some help of the staff.

One of the waitresses had been very helpful, digging up a pair of iron scissors in a far corner of a storage room. She had tried to make him feel better, by asking if she could do anything else to help, if she needed to call somebody.

Wolf hadn't been thankful to her, he merely brushed her aside when he exited the snack bar, and swore viciously when seeing the earlier occupied parking space now very empty.

Cub was gone, and he had very little time to bring him back.

* * *

Waking up after being subdued was never pretty. Alex slowly became more conscious about his surroundings. Careful not to open his eyes, he might have the advance of surprise if he still looked unconscious, he started to focus on his other senses.

It felt like they were still in the car, maybe not the same, but definitely a car. Somehow he found it a bit ironic Crawley had taken the trouble to strap him in his seatbelts. The throbbing sound of a motor coming from under Alex, told him they were driving, but somehow he knew they weren't going so fast.

A loud hunk coming from another vehicle, made him almost move in surprise. Could it be…?

No that would be ridiculous now would it? Still, the more he thought about it, the likelier it seemed.

If his assuming was right, Crawley had been on his way to the days headquarter, coming from night quarter. On his way he might have been hungry and stopped at the nearest McDonald…only to bump into Wolf and himself?

Now, if that was the case, than they were heading for day quarters, as in heading to London. And seeing as it was somewhat past seven, it could be that they had landed in London's morning rush-hour. Judging by the several irritated car horns going off and the slow pace of the car itself, they seemed to be stuck in a traffic-jam.

Even his sincere headache couldn't suppress the tiny hint of a smile that Alex formed on his lips. If his plan would go just as simple as it had formed itself in his head, he would be out of here in no time.

The first time since midnight that night, Alex believed he smelled luck coming his way.

* * *

'I can't believe how bad I smell,' Wolf mused to himself. On top of all the rotten luck he had received for the last hours, this must be a new high. Or low, depending how one would count.

He had been able to catch a ride towards town. Luckily for him, it was a empty truck, the driver was okay with giving him a free ride, only if he didn't let himself been seen, he wasn't supposed to pick up hitchhikers. So there was plenty of space for him in the back.

Unluckily, the truck had been transporting pigs to their unfortunate destiny, and let's just say, the sight was as terrible as the stench.

Wolf contemplated on how to go from here, going into London was the first stage, and the simplest part. Second, he would have to find out where Alex had been taken. That provided a certain difficulty, the likeliest place would be MI6 itself, or other than that, it could be anywhere else.

Wolf didn't know which of those two would be best.

'Cub must be out of his wits right now. Being shoot at, crashed and now kidnapped,' Wolf couldn't help but think about the young teenager. 'But then again, Cub never seems to be without wits.'

He started to like the little devil. If only because he had been surprised by the kid during their walk trough bush and gravel. He had been okay to talk to, easy to past time with. Besides the shooting, and tiredness, and overall distress of being followed, it had been sort of an ok night.

He didn't know what to make out of the kid anymore. He wanted to throttle him, for being such a cheek, for being a right pain in the **, the way he attracted danger like honey. And still, somewhere, somehow, the kid was likable.

Ben, his former teammate, once described Cub as an innocent child. Well, Wolf couldn't disagree more. Cub was anything but innocent. The sarcasm that had been produced by the boy, was enough to blow that bubble image. And some of the more sharp comments had made him think of Alex more as a rebellious teenager, than a sweet child.

But he did look younger, when he had been sleeping in the front seat.

Maybe it was because Wolf was used to working in a team, and being bunked alone in a dark truck, he had too many time to contemplate his thoughts. Wolf knew that overthinking a situation, didn't always worked for the best for him. Most of the time, he was on his best when he needed to improvise.

Or maybe it was because he was used to being the leader. The kid had been remarkably compliant to his bossing. Why was that anyway? Maybe Cub had sort of trusted him?

Yeah, that thought even depressed him more. Here he was, wallowing in worthless circumstances, no clear goal, losing a kid who trusted him to protect him, and being lost himself. This day better end in a big fairytale if it wanted to turn out good.

Wolf stretched out, fighting the stiffness out his joint, and calmed a bit more. 'No need to go into melodramatics. The kid can fend for himself, can't he now?' he tried to tell himself. 'See over thinking things, only makes it worse.'

For a moment Wolf closed his eyes, in an attempt to catch a quick rest. But the stank only seemed to intensify when he shut his eyelids, having no distractions from it. Wolf grunted in chagrin, really when he found the kid, he would personally make him relive the hell that Wolf had gone through this night.

"An easy mission," Jones had said, well what a great lie on a great day, Wolf angrily huffed.

'Cub better take care of himself' Wolf settled for to ease his mind, 'if he doesn't and I'm the one who bails him out of this mess, than he will be sorry I didn't drown him for crashing my car right away.'

As on tune the truck made a sharp turn, making Wolf tumble to the side. The ground he landed on had one pro, it was soft. But looking at the pile of poo and dirt he had fallen on, Wolf couldn't see that particular detail. Yes, Cub was in for some heavy repaying.

"Bring him back in one piece," Jones had told them that night, and Wolf couldn't help but think how accurate her choice of words had been.

Wolf was determined to haul Alex back. But if he could do that and keeping him in one piece, was an entirely different matter.

* * *

Meanwhile, the morning had provided a perfect distraction for Smithers to execute his ingenious plan.

The tension had been heavy whole night, and now it was time for everybody to go home, or go back to London's HQ.

Blunt had requested Smithers to come down to his office after everybody had left, and Smithers had taken that as his deadline.

So when the last employee, minus Smithers, took his leave, Smithers excused himself to his boss, going for the bathroom.

See his ingenious plan, was the small window at the back of the toilets. His car was stationed not far from it, and once he was outside, he could easily make his way out of there.

No running, no cardio, no busses to catch, just him and his car, sitting while leaving.

Yes the running thing had been a real obstacle to overcome, but as soon as Smithers emerged the man's bathroom, he saw another problem ahead of him.

The small window that led to his escape, really was what he called it to be, plainly small. And Smithers was kind of big man.

A swift second of contemplation, made Smithers decide that he probably –hopefully- wouldn't get stuck.

With great effort he hoisted himself on the sink next to it. If anyone could see him now, they probably wouldn't believe what their eyes told them.  
On his knees in the little sink, he lifted one hand to the side of the window, just barely reaching it. With two fingers he pushed it, but it didn't budge. Stretching some more, he now added pressure with three fingers, making the window squeak.

'Just a little more,' Smithers encouraged himself when he wobbly putted one foot in the sink, and made a half stand.

That probably wasn't the best course of action; his whole bodyweight now lingered on one side of the tiny white sink. A loud shriek told him that the sink was slowly, but steadily coming down from the wall.

"but no need to worry about that,' Smithers thought reasonably when he pushed his whole hand against the small window and bugging it wide open. A breeze made its way to his face just when one side of the sink completely gave in.

'That must have made quite the noise, probably not a good idea to wait for the committee to come and watch the show' he mused and suck in his belly to give his arms some space to clench onto the window sides.

Now. On three.

One. He gripped the brinks on the side of the open window firmly.

Two. He adjusted his weight, making himself ready to hoist himself trough.

Three. As on cue the sink collapsed and gave a loud bank when hitting the floor.

Above that scene a window clapped shut and Smithers, ever so calm, dept his forehead a bit while he walked to his car.

No need for running at all.

* * *

_ As always, thank you 32-star_

_So not my best I must say, I didn't really knew how to put this chapter together. But I promise, now that this part is over and done with, I can easily move on to the next, and that one, I have a good idea about, what to do with._

_Please review if you have any questions or comments. I will reply if necessary, and I probably will update sometime soon again._

_Let me know what you thought of this one, I was kind of unsure.  
_  
_ Peachless_


	5. Chapter 5

AN: I'm very, very sorry for the people who were just reading this. I had problems adding this chapter, and completely messed up, putted on the wrong one. I hope it goes right this time, very sorry! Really my brain just get's lost sometimes. If the chapter isn't right this time, please take the time to PM me...? Yeah I know, really embarrassing and al that :p

Chapter 5

Did he dare? Such a bolt plan… still, straight-forwardness had worked the charm before.

Well, it would be now or never, and now was preferred.

Alex opened his eyes in the slightest, straining himself not to blink for the sudden light that hit his pupils.

What was he facing? Some sort of dusty black fabrics, probably the car seat, so okay he was facing the car seat and what else? Light came from above him -the window maybe- and that meant that Crawley probably was on his right, about a foot away.

That's not very much, Alex stated. A bit of a personal space invader, that man, but luckily he hadn't noticed Alex was awake yet.

His breathing sped up a bit, was it really this easy? He closed his eyes again, trying to reach certain calmness; it would be no good if Crawley saw him wide awake. His luck of not being cuffed could end drastically the moment the other agent would notice his conscious state.

He rather liked his mobility.

Now back to his plan. He only needed one second, one try, and a buck-load of luck, and then it would be fine.

Mentally Alex prepared himself for that one second, while slowly moving his feet in the right position.

Crawley began to drum on the wheel, another sign of impatience. Alex now knew almost for certain they were stuck in the morning traffic. Praying they actually were, and not driving full gear on some sort of high-speed road, so that when Alex would escape, he would be free for a second before being squashed flat as a pancake.

'Let it be a jam, please let it be a jam…' Alex heart was hammering in his throat, still moving his feet by the millimetre.

He needed one perfect move, with his right arm unclipping his seatbelt and his left tugging open the door. He would roll out without taking another breath. That is, if the doors weren't locked.

If it was open, he might have a chance, if his door was locked, he might as well put a bullet in his head right away. Without the element of surprise, he came nowhere. Crawley would be alerted that he was in fact awake and take extra precautions, such as drugging him again. Maybe even go as far as binding him, like he should have had done this time.

Well, no time to stick around and remind him. This would be it, one move, and one chance.

One, two…

Wait!

Am I going _after_-three or _on_-three? Alex debated, his foot daggling in an awkward hook to provide the necessary room for his right hand. Crawley still hadn't noticed.

Somewhere in the back of his mind he heard a mocking grunt, if Wolf had been there he would have dragged him out of the vehicle by the hair for being such a whuss. Why it was that Wolf of all people was terrorizing his mind right now, Alex didn't pay no attention to, this was simply not the moment to dwell on anything really.

'Get a grip Rider', he mentally scolded himself, imagining the stern voice of the SAS soldier, reprimanding him like he was some kind of brainless seagull, 'it's not like it matters if you go on- or after-three, either way nobody's waiting but you.'

True, he was on his own; it came down to him. Somehow that realization made him feel very alone.

Crawley decided that moment to scrape his throat, the weak cough making Alex go back to the present problem of escaping.

'Well, maybe not alone, I have creepy Crawley as company,' Alex moved his arm so he could reach the doorknob easily. Once again he wished Wolf was there, to return the kick in the butt Alex had given him once, sending him hurling out of a plane. The matters weren't so different now. Falling out a plane or a driving car… not your daily list of chores-to-be-done. Well here goes nothing…

One, two…

And just like that, Alex decided he was an on-three kind of guy.

For a flint of a second Alex felt the strange bulb of weightlessness set in his stomach before gravity took the momentum, the fall was fast and over before Alex realised falling at all.

They had been driving harder than Alex had been expecting, and the pavement hit him like a truck.

"Umpf,"Alex wanted to scream because of the impact, but all the air was deprived from him by the blow.

He landed on his left side, most of his shoulder covering the blow when he hit ground, but his upper arm got a nasty tug a well. He stuck out his other hand, preventing his face getting slammed onto the asphalt and tumbled further.

The fall had happened in no less than a couple of seconds, giving Alex a bit of room to breath when he stopped on his back, facing the fresh morning sky, light blue greeted him and the sun was shining pretty.

The throbbing pain in his arm however, ended his blissful moment in an instance.

For a moment he was sure he broke something, but that thought made room for a renewed panic when he glanced up and barely managed to roll out of the way for an oncoming car.

Jam or not, lying still on a highway wasn't the best idea in any circumstance.

In the meantime Crawley was manoeuvring the car to the flight stroke, trying to block Alex path to the side bushes, having catched onto the sudden escape rather fast. Luckily the jam omewhat prevented him from fast movement and before Crawley was well turned; Alex had already changed direction and scrambled up to the other lane of the highway.

The sight that was presented for him, made his heart sink to the bottom of his stomach.

Cars going out of London had no such trouble as jams this morning, they rushed out of the city full speed, the endless stream of fast going travellers didn't seem to notice the little tumult on the other side of the road.

Alex was now fully standing, and only then he noticed the thumping drum in his head, indicating a very familiar headache one got after being drugged.

There was no time for nursing however, so Alex chose to ignore the thrum and wobbly made his path to the car-stream.

Behind him, Crawly had stopped his car and was pulling out, screaming something incomprehensible in his direction and causing the drivers behind him to hunk their horns and yell out of the window.

When Alex had made a dash to the door Crawly had managed to grip his shirt and had tried to yank him back. But the door had already opened and Alex let himself roll out. Gravity had proven to be more persistent and Alex shirt had ripped where Crawly had tried to hold him.

The man looked truly livid now; clutching the piece of fabric in his hand so hard his knuckles were a deadly white. Alex had never seen him wearing more expression on his face that this instance.

Seeing that that way was no option, Alex turned his gaze back towards the opposite lane; the only escape was on the opposite of the road, blocked by different colours of stripes indicating the moving cars.

Standing up-close they seemed to be moving much faster than Alex thought they would.

Still, he just had to reach the bushes on the other side; Crawly wouldn't dare to follow.

Other drivers started to get irritated by the tumult they were costing, patience low as they were already.

It must have made a strange sight, a battered up boy, standing in the middle of the highway, all in just his raft PJ's, looking for the world as if he was about to jump before a truck right that moment.

Only the opposite was true, Alex truly hoped he wasn't going to be hit by a car, nor truck, for that matter. Instead of a seemingly death-attempt, he intended to reach the grass, hopefully, very much alive. Although plunging himself onto the road probably was as good as suicide.

Whatever the outcome may be, Alex thought, this must be the slowest, lamest escape in history. Giving a half heartily glance over his shoulder, Alex saw Crawley flipping off a very irritated driver, who had decided to step out of his vehicle too, and yelled towards the commotion he and Crawley were making.

The cars went so fast; he would never reach the other side.

In the end, he didn't know what made his feet move, the adrenaline from the fall, or Crawley's looming presents behind his back. He didn't look around but knew Crawley was about a foot away from grasping him.

It was the perfect time to leave, in Alex opinion.

In one step he was on the road, the sound of rolling wheels and humming engines so close it was overwhelming. Nothing but swift strokes of colour seemed to round him for a moment, and Alex squeezed his eyes shut in fear, awaiting the blow that surely was about to happen.

Mechanically he kept on walking, fear of his own action momentarily blurring his mind.

As sudden as he had entered, he felt the hard pavement turning into a softer, damp underground and spread his eyes wide open. Looking down he couldn't believe the moist green colour that was presented to him.

He actually had made it to the grass.

Coming to a halt, Alex felt like the king of the world. How unlikely was this? He had blindly crossed a full going highway, and didn't even have a scratch.

Stunned, he rounded his head, finding an equally surprised expression on Crawley's face, momentarily making them forget their hostility. It didn't take long however, Crawley's look of vague amazement turned into angry determination, pulling out his sell phone and rapidly started to talk.

Alex knew that Crawley, for now, wasn't a threat anymore. The road stood out like an unbreakable wall, only see-true, as if it was mocking the MI6agent that his prey got away so easily. The chase hadn't even been more that a couple meters, Alex realised his crazy luck.

But he also realised he hadn't got much time to disappear, Crawley would find an easy way to cross, one that wasn't so deadly as Alex dash, and soon the back-up he was requiring right now, would swarm over his side of the road. It was time to disappear quickly.

He took sharp breaths and started moving out of sight, his pace steady and determinate, time was valuable right now. However he did stop smiling a little, taking one moment on the top of a slight hill, to give a two-fingered tap on his head in the direction of a vague silhouette down below him.

Crawley and he couldn't see each others faces from this distant, but he new the other had seen is mock salute. Just like Alex felt the other's glare piercing violent wholes in his back, even when he went over the hill out of eyesight.

So he was back on his own again, right where he started. On the run, barefooted, tired and  
most of all alone.

* * *

A mere hour later…

He couldn't help but laugh. Like a new nerve-twitch his mouth kept jerking up and chuckles emerged his lips. He hadn't had it in control, it was a nervous laugh.

Paranoid of being followed he had been walking crazy criss-cross routes all hour, his first high had well en throughout worn off already, not knowing if he could count himself the luckiest or most cursed man in the world, for this night events.

His attempt of being stealthy and invisible got destructively ruined by his own uncontrolled snorting.

Inwardly sighing Alex questioned his own sanity. He wasn't enjoying this, he gloomily stated, but his body disagreed by making his sides squirm and from the back of his throat another strange snort was forced outside.

He knew laughing was a common reaction to long-term stress and too much adrenaline rushes.

Somehow your body protests the extreme feelings, by creating an outlet on its own. It was only normal, seeing is circumstances, a healthy reaction, but thatdidn't make him feel less like a right fruitcase this moment.

He was so tired of running, tired of suppressed fear, the ongoing stream of mess he had fallen in, tired of feeling tense and different, gods, he was even tired of himself right now. The biggest urge he had, his greatest longing, was only to find a nice place and simply relax.

Finally settling for a more direct route to the city, he let his mind wander more. It felt so long ago he had truly been relaxed, comfortable, simply being taken care of...

_Jack fussed over him like he was about to die right then and there._

_"Jack, really there's no need to..." But his reasoning got muffled by a blanket that she prodded up to the brim of his nose._

_Stiffing a laugh when she spotted his discomforted look, she pulled a cotton white tissue out of a box on his nightstand, and ordered him to blow._

_"I'm not a five-year-old Jack!" Alex removed the blanked and tried to get up. This however wasn't happening seeing Jack prevented his from standing with a surprisingly firm hold._

_"Oh no you don't! All these times I have to see you get hurt by that...that... that stupid MI6, and stand on the sideline. I can't do anything against cracked ribs and bullet wholes. Now that you are sick, just normally sick like a normal teenager, I'm not going to sit and watch," she told him and pushed him back into bed. More fiercely than before she tugged him in and __receded her rant, "You will not take this moment from me. You're sick, and 'm going to help. Like a normal family. Don't you dare take that from me. Now blow your nose!"_

_"Jack I've just got a cold, please."_

_"Blow it!" she almost screeched._

_So she had fussed over him, with a crazy look of happiness, acting like he wasdying from a snotty nose, not listening to his complaints one bit._

_After an hour or so, Alex had come to the conclusion that the fretting, the nursing all of the fuss, wasn't about him at all. This was Jack's day, and the least he could do was kern on the right moments, being utterly grateful for the overly hot blankets she choked him with, and most of all, let her rant._

_Seriously, he would have got an Oscar, had somebody witnessed. His patience wore thin the moment Jack decided to call Tom, urging him to pay a visit to his sickbed._

_Strangely, Tom had picked up on the whole ordeal more quickly than Alex had, telling Jack she did such a great job, making room in the conversation for her to have a go at MI6 even more._

_He had seen Jack's need to be helpful for once, way faster that Alex had._

_Alex had been impressed by the subtle handling of his friend, he got the eerie feeling Tom had been dealing with Jack like this before. He got the disturbing image of the two of them, waiting outside his hospital room for the umpteenth time, cracking half heartily jokes._

_All sentiments aside, he could just about strangle his friend when he shoved a fruit basked in his hands, inclusive a fluffy stuffed animal of a smiling crocodile. Combined was a card of the icy Cola bay in the north of Russia, the inscription on the back made him give a sour smile at his best friend._

_"Catched a cold? You look like you could use a holiday to sunny Africa. Don't_  
_get well soon; Jack's having a blast._  
_Your dearest,_  
_Tom"_

Jack, Tom... even thinking about them made him gloomy. Stamping the weeds he walked on more aggressive than necessary, he cursed his own life.

He had had it all, a good friend, family, loving and caring, how did it all go down the drain?

He remembered the joyful look on Jack face, when she told him she had met someone. He had been happy for her, and when he had met him, he couldn't help but like the guy. He was friendly, funny and smart; there simply wasn't anything unlikable about him.

Until they had plans to get married. From that moment on Alex had a perfectly good reason to not like the man.

After all, the treats from MI6 considering Jack's prolonged visa, hadn't been necessary at all.

She was already leaving him, out of her free will. Back to the States, where they could buy a house, get married and have lots of children that weren't him.

But Alex hadn't had the heart to be openly mad. He eveven was a bit happy for her, that she found the normal life he had taken from her. He was happy for her, yes, but all the more sad for himself.

Jack's leaving, had meant major change in Alex life. Ironically MI6 had found it irresponsible for a boy his age to live alone in a big house in Chelsea.

So they moved him out, putting him in the care of agents, sometimes as a part of their cover, but also sometimes just as guardians.

Needless to say, Brookland hadn't been that tolerant about his constant absence during movements or his mental absence when he actually could make it to class.

When his grades had lowered, not even a week had passed before he got expelled. Not even in person, the school had sent the most impersonal mail, telling him he wasn't expected to return.

He didn't mind it so much; Brookland had been closed of his mind long time before. The only surprise he got was when Ms. Jones had insisted that his education would proceed.

She had hired a personal teacher, and given him quite too many subjects she expected him to graduate on. He didn't know how she expected him to find the motivation for any learning at all.

Professor Flee was probably the most paranoid, jumpy little man Alex knew. He had more nervous twitches Alex could keep track of, and never seemed to change his worn-out brown suit.

He was also Alex's single and most boring regularity he had left, and secretly Alex had grown fond of the guy. He even felt slightly bad when the man looked as if he would past out from an untraceable noise or just the weight of stress the man seemed to carry round constantly.

Alex wondered what made the man the way he was, but never asked. They always stayed professional. Or some sort.

It wasn't like Alex was trying to make an effort to actual learn anything during their encounters.

Alex's thinking came to hold when he heard some rustling in the bushes. The hair on his arm rose instantly and he took on a defensive posture.

A cat fleeted away in front of him, probably just as cautious of Alex as Alex had been of the cat.

A housecat, Alex thought to himself, which meant people are near.

And he was right, not even a half-mile further down the sandy path Alex had taken; the roof of a house came into view.

Nice, red shining rooftiles coloured against the green trees which Alex emerged from. Before him lay a quiet, small street, the beginning of a wealthy looking London sub-urb, almost too peaceful looking.

Cute front gardens and white fences divided the properties, but Alex couldn't see much difference between the houses. As in any middle class sub-urb, the houses seemed bright, clean and colourful. A paradise for young couples, upcoming families, and just the kind of neighbourhood Alex never wanted to live in.

He loved London, the city, the buzz of ten million people who live their lives next to each other. The anonymous feeling of a big city, people so different but together they somehow functioned in one of the major centrals of the world

Alex loved that kind of chaos, it felt familiar, alive.

He hurried himself trough the silent streets, glancing round him. Were should he go?

He though about Wolf's suspicion of MI6, well now that suspicion was more than confirmed. MI6 obviously had been compromised somewhere down the road.

He couldn't go to any familiar places; they would look for him at those. So Tom's house was out, but even if it wasn't, they hadn't spoken in a long time; Alex wouldn't drag his friend into this mess, even if he could go there.

His old place wasn't an option either, the house probably was sold to a perfect stranger, and he had no business there.

Everybody else Alex knew was MI6. His teacher, his former guardians, even the place he sported was MI6 property.

Once again he damned himself while he stated that MI6 had become his life. This was who he had become, another agent, their world was his world now.

At some point he had accepted it, lay down his protests and had fully become a spy.

It was the stupidest mistake he had ever made.

Even his name was MI6 connected, thanks to the shared family job interests. Maybe it was in his blood, maybe a Rider was just meant to be a spy.

Shaking his head he tried to rid himself of those negative thoughts.

Stop the drama already! He furiously told himself, it's not going to help one bit. Now what do you plan to do about this situation?

Kicking away a little stone Alex walked in yet another street, he didn't even paid attention to his surroundings anymore.

I'm planning on staying alive; Alex answered his own question, so how am Igoing to accomplish that?

"…"

Nothing, my head is empty, he depressively admitted. What a great timing to go blank.

Starting at the beginning might be the best idea, he debated to himself, so first of all, keep breathing. Secondly, don't lose your mind, that wouldn't be useful at all, and don't go into the drama.

So do I have anything on me that could help me?

He stood still at a crossroad, looking down upon himself. He had no pockets, so no help there. No gadgets either. He thought about all the handy equipment Smithers had made for him over the year and sadly wondered if maybe Smithers too, had turned on him.

I have nothing, he mused, and immediately cursed the fact he still sounded like a whiny teenager.

But it's true; I don't have anything... if Wolf was here he would have found something. Being in SAS and all, would have made him trained to use anything his environment provided.

Like a real live McGuiver, making bombs out of elastics and crazy things like that.

If only he could help him out again…

And there it was, the answer painfully obvious.

If Wolf could get him out of this mess, than he only had to find him.

Alex tired feelings vanquished right there, he had an idea, a goal… a mission, he added a bit less enthusiastic.

Looking around himself he saw an empty phone booth just at the far end of the road.

Inside the booth a battered phonebook was laying stamped in the corner. Alex picked it up and started to spit it through.

Like, honestly, how many Colparts could there be living in one city? 

* * *

Thanks to 32-star, who must have had golden patience with me this time


End file.
